Chapter 0005
Chapter 0005
Aldo
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Why was she here?
As silence fell in the wake of the shots, the woman in my arms wrenched away. I let her go, and instantly felt the loss–of her warmth, her softness, the slightly sweet smell of her shampoo. It was the same, the same as she’d always worn.
Her smell.
My Layla.
She wasn’t supposed to be in this city, let alone in this goddamned hospital. I’d changed my name, the day I divorced her, left her. Changed everything about myself to ensure I left her behind.
I should never have seen her again.
But when she lifted clear blue eyes to meet my gaze, I couldn’t find my regret. The years had only made her more beautiful. More fierce and strong and, I’d wager, staunchly independent.
But those eyes, those eyes were the same pure blue–like a cloudless summer sky in the Alaska where we’d forged our life. Except in those long–ago years, her eyes had been filled with love.
Now, she studied me with caution. Fear. Distrust.
I forced down the painfully tight squeeze in my chest. Instead, I assumed the role I’d been born to play. The one I’d been playing for eight long, brutal years.
The one my family needed.
“The fight’s over,” I said, in the same stern, toneless voice I’d perfected over those years. I knew my men would already be clearing up the aftermath. Removing bodies, locating doctors and nurses to patch up wounds.
Digging bullets out of walls.
But Layla still hadn’t moved.
“You can go home now,” I said, and her jaw clenched tight. Lashes fluttered. Was she, too, thinking about our cabin in the mountains?
“The enemy is dead.” In demonstration, I slid my gun back into its holster under my suit jacket.
The enemy was dead, bu the persistence of the Moretti family was nothing if not commendable, I supposed. They’d failed to take out Carlo on the street, so they’d deigned to come after him in a damned hospital.
Her lips parted, and for one beautiful, terrible moment, I thought she might speak. Thank me? Ask me what had happened–why I was here. Who I was…
What would my answer have been?
But she pulled her mouth closed again before the question formed. Shook her head. And finally, in a tight, toneless voice I barely recognized, informed me, “I’m leaving.”
She made it halfway to the elevator before I found the words. “Bruno! Davido! Please, escort this good doctor to her home.”
The two men started forward.
Chapter 0005
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“No.” Layla’s word was a command, as forceful as any I’d ever given. When she turned towards me, her blue eyes flashed. “I won’t be walked around on a leash. Like some plaything of the Mafia.”
Behind her, the elevator doors swooped open, and a young man in plain blue scrubs stepped out. “Layla!”
She spun to face him, and this time, her voice was a gush of warmth, of relief. “Marco! Oh, thank God!”
“Are you all right?” Flecks of blood splattered the man’s blue shirt, but I didn’t know if it was from the altercation or his medical affiliations. I stopped noticing when his arm slid around her shoulders to pull her close.
“I’m all right.” She stiffened in his embrace, like she could feel me watching. “But I think it’s time to leave. Now, please.”
“Right.” His gaze lifted from her, and his dark eyes met mine to give me a full look at his face.
He was younger than me, younger than her, even, but undeniably attractive. Not that I noticed. Or cared. The woman in his arms, the Layla I’d once known, she was nothing to me. Not anymore.
The distance between us–leaving us strangers—it was what I wanted. Needed. So why couldn’t I take my eyes from them as they slid into the elevator together?
Why did my mouth feel dry, throat too tight? Why did my chest ache?
“Follow them down,” I said to the man standing beside me. It was only after he moved I identified him as Bruno. Make sure she gets home.”
Bruno didn’t question me, but his gaze lingered just a moment too long. A silent question in his eyes. But he didn’t voice it.
No. He obeyed.
I was godfather of the Marcello family. I wasn’t questioned I was obeyed. Even if I was acting irrationally.
“Aldo,” another voice spoke at my left shoulder, and I turned to face the new arrival. “We killed five. Several escaped. But we took one alive.”
I withheld the sigh building in my chest. Bruno would follow Layla, ensure she reached home safely. I knew that. She wasn’t my concern–wasn’t my business. Not anymore
My business now was information–finding out what I could from our new prisoner. Protecting my family, always, was my prerogative.
“We’re leaving,” I said, because it was time. I had to move on, forget her. Like I’d been doing every day for eight years. “Make sure someone’s watching Carlo. I won’t have another attack on my second.”
The man at my shoulder bowed, then hurried off to obey.
Always, my men obeyed.
***
The next few days blurred behind the knowledge that she was here. In this city. So close—and yet so far–from the Manhattan penthouse I occupied.
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